24 Random Things About Me.

I'm still debating which end of the spectrum I fall on with the new Facebook phenomenon, but I'm going to do it because maybe it will launch some ideas for future blogs. Plus, I've loved reading others' and learned about my friends.

24 Random Things About Me... In honor of Ken Griffey, Jr.

1. For some reason I decided in high school to memorize pi as far as I could: 3.14159265358979323846264338327950 ... I don't think I will ever forget that sequence of numbers. Which is scary.
2. I need motivation to run, so I'm in the process of picking another 1/2 marathon.
3. My favorite smells are baseball glove leather, chalk, and coffee. Not together.
4. I don't own any soaps or perfumes in those fragrances. Not socially acceptable. Those tend to be along the limey, coconutty, minty lines.
5. I have spent 20 weeks total in Haines, Alaska.
6. I have also been to Italy, Greece, France, Kyrgyzstan, The Dominican Republic, and Japan. Haines wins the beauty contest by a landslide.
7. I have two older brothers who let me tag along while they played sports and such. I owe them a lot for athletic ability and more importantly, self-confidence.
8. I shed some tears when Ken Griffey, Jr asked to be traded. I was in college at the time.
9. I had an imaginary friend when I was younger. Her name was Ariana. Good times.
10. I'm working on memorizing I John. I like memorizing stuff.
11. My most memorable Halloween costumes from my childhood were Punky Brewster and ALF.
12. I love to laugh and always want to hang out with people who make me laugh and don't take themselves too seriously.
13. I teach my nephews important things like how to raise one eyebrow, the UW fight song, and how to eat like a squirrel.
14. My oldest brother named me after a girl he liked in Kindergarten.
15. I really like words and languages. I studied Spanish and Japanese in high school. I tried to learn as much Russian as possible in Kyrgyzstan. I love crossword puzzles.
16. My favorite foods all start with 'p' ... Pag's Pizza, Polish Sausage (w/ cream cheese!), Pumpkin Bread, Pineapple, Potato Soup.
17. The life verse I chose when I was baptized on 02/02/02 is Psalm 16:8 - "I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken." I love the idea of God before me in all things and next to me through it all.
18. My current hot beverage of choice is a tall americano with one pump of white mocha and light room. Maybe I'm more high-maintenance than I thought.
19. My top 5 strengths according to the official book on strengths are: arranger, adaptability, relational, responsibility, achiever. Basically, I like to be productive alongside other people while considering/balancing lots of variables.
20. I can touch my elbows behind my back. Go ahead, try it.
21. My favorite number is 21. I was once kind of obsessed with the number and pointed it out whenever I saw it - street signs, whatever. Then I decided I wanted to have friends when I grew up.
22. I was born with a hole in my right lung. I have the cross-shaped scar to prove it.
23. I floss every single day.
24. I know that filling this out is going to mess up my game next time I play "Two truths and a lie." Unless, of course, any of these are lies... Which they aren't (which may or may not be true).

Who's Right?

"Nobody's perfect"
or
"Practice makes perfect"

...because I'm not sure there's room for both sayings in one language.

I'm Back... Now Where Did I Leave that Soapbox?

I’m back from my month-long inpatient rehab and though the detox was painful, I have learned there is still reason to live and ways to spend my time other than refreshing bbc.com. For instance, I can take up my soapbox issue: The misuse of “literally.” I know, I know, there are better causes to stand for, but this simply needs to be brought into the light and it distracts me from the world of politics. I heard three absolutely egregious abuses of the defenseless word that must be called out:

“It literally reeks of desperation.” – The writer (a professional writer) did not go on to describe any kind of actual odor. He just compared the concept of a Grammys Nomination Concert to something about Fantasy Football. Do they bottle “Desperation?” I bet it actually smells mysteriously seductive.

Commercial: “If you don’t buy your windows from (insert company name here), you’re literally throwing your money out the window.” – No I’m not, you just happen to use an English idiom to create a clever pun. Perhaps I am figuratively throwing said money, but no cash or coins will actual be expelled from my window.

Sports commentator: “They are literally shooting themselves in the foot right now.” I don’t remember which team was Coug’ing it at the time, but I do know Plaxico Burress was not involved.

The sad thing is, I think our VP-elect is one of the worst abusers of this word… And then there's this. D’oh!

… I might need to check back into Politicaholics Anonymous rehab.

The Cluster that Just Was

I know, right? I don't post for three weeks and now I post twice in one evening. But, I have 44 minutes to spare, I need to stay awake, and I already had date night with TiVo this weekend. So, it's either this or read and I did that all afternoon. I can only bleach the sink one time before I get labeled OCD. Besides, what just happened needs to be chronicled for posterity.

Tomorrow morning I'm hosting the UMin staff meeting at my house. That entails basically having coffee and a few snacks for the 14 folks I work with. No problem; I love baking. Janie requested pumpkin bread, one of my specialties (and something that should have been listed in the previous post as something I love about fall. Perhaps "Fall Foods" needs its own listing. I digress.)

This evening, I go to make the bread thinking I have everything I need. I even had a can of pumpkin because I knew fall was coming. Around 9, I go to the kitchen to start the project only to find that I don't have milk, so it's off to Safeway for me. I get home, work my magic with my lovely Kitchenaid, get the batter in the 2 loaf pans, and put them in the oven. Then I start cleaning up the mess - something that gives me an odd pleasure. I get the Kitchenaid bowl filled with soapy water, measuring spoons & cups, spatulas, and anything else that needs cleaning and fits inside. While that soaks, I go to wipe the counter. Only to find a bowl with about 1/3 of the remaining flour mixture. D'oh!

I rush to get the loaves out of the oven thinking they hadn't been in there long enough for it to be too late. I found out quickly they had definitely been in there long enough to burn my fingers off (apparently 5 minutes or so is long enough to need a hot pad). YOW! I put my hands under cold water for a few seconds before rescuing the bread from the oven. How badly was I burned? Let's just say I don't have to worry about those crimes I recently committed because my fingerprints on my thumb and first two fingers of both hands has now been altered. I wish I were kidding. I cannot feel the keys as I type.

So, after a little while longer at the sink, I return to the pumpkin bread. All the batter returns to the now-clean mixing bowl and I add the remaining flour, remix, throw it back in the oven, and return to cleaning. I throw the kitchen mat in the washer since I have to wait 50 minutes for the bread anyway. The sink gets scrubbed. My hands periodically return to the cold water. I go ahead and pull out the tea and mugs for the morning. I look at the oven. Two minutes left. Sleep is near. I take a peek. They are just as I had put them in. Once again: D'OH! I.am.brilliant. Apparently in my anger at the oven for heating so quickly and burning off the pads of my fingers, I had turned it off. "That-will-show-it." Except I forgot to turn it back on. Yes, brilliant. So, this project I went into the kitchen to start at 9 that was supposed to still get me in bed by 10:30 continues even now. I tell you what, whatever comes out of that oven 21 minutes better be damn good. Now how should I spend that time?

This blog needs some fall colors.

Literally Speaking...

I think it's about time for me to weigh in on the Summer Olympics. I miss those darn Olympics. Because they are over, I am reduced to watching the end of a 7-2 Mariner game (or, I suppose) doing something productive.

My favorite Olympic sports to watch this year were volleyball, gymnastics, and of course swimming. My favorite Olympic sport to play this year was "Listen to the announcers misuse the word 'literally.'" I think I would have received at least the silver in that event. I have to warn you, fair reader, that this is a pet peeve of mine. "Literally" has become so overused and misused, that we're going to lose it entirely soon. We must not let it happen!

These were the heinous offenses overheard during the Olympics (even the Canadians screwed it up once; no one is immune!):

- "He is literally that good." (Referring to a baseball player who is so good, he could hit a double.) No. He just plain is that good. He's "very" good or he's "really" good, but what point were you trying to make, Mr. Announcer? "He's not just figuratively that good, people. He's literally that good." What? While we're at it, find another adjective. "Good" is boring. You're paid to describe things with words for a living.
Ahem, sorry for the tirade. It gets worse, though.

- After the Americans won a baseball game: "They literally swept the table with them."
What table? Perhaps they swept said team, in the figurative sense that we have come to use that word meaning they beat them every time they played, but they certainly did not actually break out brooms to do it. If I'm wrong and they did, why didn't they televise that?!?

- While watching diving: "She literally fell apart during the semi-finals."
Ewwwwwwww. I'm glad I didn't have to clean that up. I hope they had doctors on hand to put her back together.

Seriously, people, we can do this. Together we can unite for a better English language. (But don't look to our politicians to bring this change; the presidential candidates have been some of the most egregious offenders I've heard.) "Literally" is an important word and we need to save it. I implore you:

-Let's not use "literally" to help us exaggerate: "He is literally 10 feet tall!" No... No, he's not.
-Let's not use "literally" when there is no figurative option: "He is literally 6 feet tall" is unnecessary unless we are prone to lying and even then we should really say, "He is exactly 6 feet tall," or something to that effect.
-And for goodness' sake, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE let us not use "literally" when we mean the exact opposite: "He was so mad, he literally exploded at me." I certainly hope not.

I'm no English teacher nor am I a grammar scholar. I'm simply one woman who wants the word "literally" back for the world's children.

Confessions of a Non-Runner Runner

I have always hated running unless I was either (a) chasing a ball or (b) being chased. The only motivation I had for running in high school were the coaches who would just make me do more of the loathed activity if I didn't complete the first round. So I ran to avoid running.

Sure, I tried to "go for a run" every once in a while with Jamie (who is what you might call a "runner"), but it never caught on. Some people talk about how great it is to pray while they run or how it clears their mind or allows them to think about their day, prepare a talk, or engage other productive thoughts. My mind on the other hand always thought about the same thing: "You're tired. Why are you doing this? You know, you're running for no reason. There is no one chasing you and you're not late for anything. Why don't you just walk, Self?" At which time I would give into these thoughts and walk back home for some ice cream to congratulate myself for getting out of the house.

So, this morning as I ran a short run, I thought about how odd it is that I have picked up running over the past year as a hobby. Ok, let's be honest; What I've picked up is jogging. But, I did participate in a marathon relay (pictured - and well worth it because I ran 5 miles and got a t-shirt & a medal that said I completed a marathon.) AND, I managed to complete a half marathon. Don't get me wrong, I still hate the part about working when I don't have to, but I've learned to do it anyway.

Here's how:
1) I'm lazy. That's right, I run because I'm lazy. Running is the fastest, easiest way to stay in shape, so I don't have to buy any equipment except shoes and I don't have to think of other, more creative ways to remain relatively healthy.

2) NPR. I'm pretty sure most people assume that I'm listening to "pump-you-up music" like Michael Phelps through my telltale white ear phones. Well, I hate to disappoint, but 75% of the time, it's an NPR podcast. (And of the remaining 25%, probably 1/2 of the time I'm listening to a sermon. So, Kanye and friends only make it through less than 15% of the time). "Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me" is a great way to get the news of the week AND get a good laugh. Plus, there's the added benefit of the weird look from strangers as you laugh out loud while you run past them. Just a few Paula Poundstone and Peter Sagal mockeries of our president later, and you've almost run a mile without thinking about how hard it is to breathe. Another good one for word nerds like me is the "Sunday Puzzle." Not only do you get to listen to the soothing voice of Will Shortz, but while your mind tries to figure out how you can rearrange the letters in "egomaniac" to "spell a familiar sign seen in many stores," you're logging miles and not the least bit worried about the fact that your legs feel like jell-o when you're at least 20 minutes from home.

3) Trash Talk. Anyone and Everyone. This morning, it worked to trash talk myself: "One mile down - and in just over 10 minutes. That's not terrible. Wait a second, Self. Isn't a mile pretty close to the 1500m you watched Lagat run in about 3 and a half minutes yesterday? That's right, it only took you three times as long. Now stop thinking about how you want to walk!" Perhaps it's the voice of my high school coaches in my head, but it does no good to argue that comparing a part-time jogger to an Olympic-trained athlete makes no sense. Hey, if it motivates me, I'm not going to worry about logic. You can also trash talk the neighbors: "I wonder if they meant for their front lawn to look like a staging ground for landfill?" (I told you my thoughts weren't productive. They're not always uplifting either.)

4) Sprint the last part. Not only will all of your neighbors think you ran that fast the whole time and be impressed, you will convince yourself you ran that fast the whole time, too. Plus, it adds to the out-of-breath factor, which tricks your brain into thinking you're a runner instead of a jogger.

5) Goals. The bottom line is, I would not get out of bed if I didn't have a race or something that I "had" to prepare for. "If you don't run the 3 miles today, you won't be able to run the 5 miles this weekend and then that $70 you paid to run with 5,000 other people will REALLY be wasted." Plus, if you enter a race, they give you a really comfy shirt for "free."

So, I hope that helps someone out there who hates running. If you are one of those people who LOVES to run and can't get enough of it and is going to tell me that if I just run far enough or long enough, I will experience one of those "runner's highs," I don't want to hear about it. Thanks for playing, but if you keep talking about that, I'm not sure we can be friends anymore.

World Wide Waste-of-time

In case you'd lost hope in the internet's ability to time suck: Have no fear. Please don't click if you have things you actually need to accomplish today.

Ivan Frakkin' Lendl!

I've found a good purpose for the blog. Ranting about lost trivia nights. Trivia nights are great fun. But they can also be quite anguishing when you ... Oh, I don't know, finish in 3rd place and have about 4 or 5 answers you were [[[this close]]] to getting right. U2's album that went to number one the day after it was released? Joshua Tree (we over-thought that one). The team OJ Simpson played his last game for? San Francisco 49ers. The two words Jim Henson morphed to create the word "muppets"? "Puppet" and "Marionette," of course! (Not "music," after all.) Rickey Henderson played his last game for the Dodgers. Morgan Freeman's name on Driving Miss Daisy was Hoke. The one that really got me, though was, "Who finished 1985, '86, '87, '89 as the number 1 tennis player in the world?" Not that I follow professional tennis and not that I know who finished number 1 any given season, but the fact that I could list every tennis player in the '80s I could think of and not come up with Ivan Lendl... IVAN LENDL! ...just makes me weep for my trivia skills. And sports is the one category I'm supposed to bring something to the table. Fix two of these wrong answers and we're in the money. Instead, we pay the bill for our burgers and go home to try to sleep (and apparently write anguished blog posts).

Blogger's Remorse

I remembered mid-day Saturday that I had started a blog. I wondered how something like that could happen when I was fully conscious of my behavior at the time. What had come over me? I started to feel buyer's remorse instantly and then I remembered that it's all free. I tried to psychoanalyze why I was experiencing said remorse and I realized that I felt pressure. Pressure to be a good writer and pressure to be funny, for sure - but I don't really care that much about what people think of me, do I? The answer is no. I realized the biggest pressure I felt was to write in this durn thing at all. "I already have so many things going on - what was I thinking? I don't have time for a blog..." Which is when I also remembered I don't have to write in this thing at all. Nobody is paying attention anyway. Besides, if they (I guess that would be YOU) do start paying attention and I stop writing in it, I just bought you time that you would have wasted reading my random thoughts about pointless things.

Speaking of which, it feels arrogant to me to think that anybody would take time to read this. That's dangerous to admit because I have so many blogging friends. Don't take that the wrong way - I don't think you're arrogant. Just me. But, I guess you're under no obligation to read this, even if you are my friend (yes, there are a few people out there that would label themselves such). Soooooo... I guess I'll just assume no one ever reads this and call it good. If you choose to spend your time reading about my life and my thoughts, so be it.

This adventure into blogdom partially came about because several people told me, "You should have a blog. I would read it." I have their names written down and I'm going to quiz them on my blog topics. Question #1: What's the name of my blog and why? Answer to part B: The two best 3-word comebacks of all time. You're in an argument and the other person won't stop making sense. You know you've lost. Either line gets you out 100% free from admitting defeat. What are you supposed to say in response to either line? Trust me - try it.